


All I Want For Christmas

by Fr0st6yte



Series: 25 (Really, 22) Days of Christmas [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holiday, Hurt/Comfort, Young Legolas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8759071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr0st6yte/pseuds/Fr0st6yte
Summary: The first Midwinter Legolas is spending out in southern Eryn Galen, and his friends seek to remind him why they fight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s the next one - in the Lord of the Rings fandom - some new commander Legolas wishing to be home, not on patrol. Less edited, more raw than most of my pieces. Enjoy!
> 
> Title: All I Want For Christmas  
> Author: Fr0st6yte (RoboTitaness)  
> Fandom: Lord of the Rings  
> Characters: Legolas Thrandullion  
> Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship  
> Summary: The first Midwinter Legolas is spending out in southern Eryn Galen, and his friends seek to remind him why they fight.

Legolas crouched in the foliage, clutching his bow loosely, eyes focused on the spiders moving around under the trees. 

“Legolas,” Cirdir murmured, sliding silently next to him. “There is another nest several tree-falls north of here.” 

“Laston and Aphedir?” 

“They had stayed to watch over the spiders.” 

“Good. We must take care of these first, before joining them.” 

“We await your signal,” Tinnion said from Legolas’ other side. His friend’s hand was tight over his own bow, but he looked over at the younger elf to add, “Everyone is in position,  _caun nin._ ” 

“Told you time and time again not to call me that,” Legolas muttered back before raising a hand to signal the rest of the archers. Both Tinnion and Cirdir shifted imperceptibly and their bows came up, arrows drawn and ready. Legolas dropped his arm, and sudden  _twangs_ sounded and spiders dropped dead as the Woodland archers’ arrows hit their marks. 

Legolas himself brought his bow up and made shot after shot, killing the huge beasts quickly and effectively. Minutes later, the nest was destroyed and the Rangers moved on to destroy yet another spider nest. 

Legolas’ troop of archers had been fighting in southern Eryn Galen for weeks tracking a group of orcs, yet still stopping at every nest to destroy the ever-growing number of spiders. They were growing weary and the numbered injured was increasing with every attack. Legolas thanked Valar for the recent attack’s straightforwardness and respite. 

It seemed that the Valar did not find his gratitude sufficient, Legolas thought, as he swapped his bow for his knives and dropped to the ground, Tinnion instantly joining him, moving to fight back to back. The second nest was bigger than the previous one, and the spiders had caught onto the Elves soon after the first volley of arrows. His Rangers quickly followed their prince, drawing their own knives to join him on the forest floor. Some stayed above to continue shooting. 

The battle was not long, however Legolas would not have been able to recall too many details either way. It was all over in a whirlwind of twisting and stabbing and slashing and jumping and soon, he found himself crouching, still brandishing both knives in front of him defensively. Spiders littered the ground in front of the fifteen elves, all of who were also just finishing their battles. 

“Injuries?” Legolas barked out. At first, there was no answer and added, “Anyone who cannot ride?” There was some shifting and a few elves were pushed forward by their companions. Legolas ignored the scowls that they sent back, and gestured for Cîlchon, Devedir, and Dolben to start on them. 

“And you, Elfling?” Tinnion asked, taking his arm. 

“I am not an elfling,” Legolas snapped back, trying to pull his arm back, only to find Northriel grabbing his other one. His seconds both ignored his snarls as they inspected him. 

“I do not see anything life-threatening,” Northriel admitted, dropping his arm. 

“Neither do I,” Tinnion said, but he did not release Legolas’ arm. “Does not mean he is not hiding something.” 

“Do you not trust me?”

“You have never given us cause, Elfling,” Northriel replied cheerfully, patting his shoulder. 

“ _Daro!”_ Legolas finally snapped as Tinnion refused to give him his arm back. “I am uninjured. Come, we must camp. It is getting too dark to carry on.” 

Once camp ready and guard shifts were set up, Legolas sat down, leaning against an oak, watching the snow gently fall to the ground. 

“First snow of the season,” he greeted Tinnion as the black-haired Silvan trotted over.

“Everyone will be getting the hall prepared,” Tinnion said, laying down next to him, head on his arms. 

“Aye. The cooks are likely in a panic.” 

“And Ganion too, remember.” 

“He will be chasing away the elflings right now.” 

“Protecting the decorations and food at all costs.” 

“A battle of honor, indeed,” Legolas said, nodding his head gravely. Tinion smirked up at him. 

“No one has gotten past him since we did, my friend.” 

“Our legacy.” 

“A proud, momentous victory.” 

“To be written in the Noldor’s books.” 

“Not even the Elrondinnath got past Ganion.” 

“That is simply because Ganion never wanted to encounter the Elfling’s sad blue eyes if you two were to be caught, not for any skills of your own,” Northriel snorted, sliding into place on Legolas’ right side. 

“You’re the one to talk,” Tinnion shot back. “You move like an orc.” 

“As loud as a Noldo,” Legolas agreed, grinning. 

“Elflings,” Northriel teased. “Elflings the pair of you.” 

“Yet you stay by our side for every bit of mischief we cause.” 

“However, I believe the two of us can agree that we are not nearly as bad as Legolas.” 

“Ta, Northriel. No elf can match the Elfling’s penchant for trouble.”

“Legolas happens to be right here,” Legolas said dryly. “And I am not an elfling!” 

“Hush Elfling,” Northriel said, waving away his outraged face. “We are not making it back in time, are we?” Instantly the two  _ellon_ sobered, and Legolas shook his head. 

“Midwinter is in three weeks,” Tinnion tried. “’tis possible.” 

“Nay, my friends.” Legolas sighed. “We have yet to catch up to the orcs. And the journey back to the stronghold will take at least a week and a half, with our injured. If it continues snowing, it shall take two.” 

“I had dreaded that.” Northriel looked disappointed. “I was looking forward to a nice dinner with  _naneth_  and  _adar_.” 

“And the feast,” Tinnion added, eyes glazing over. “Fish and deer. Freshly baked bread. And your father’s Dorwinion wine.”

Legolas laughed merrily at his friend and his thoughts of food. “We have lembas, if you are so hungry,  _mellon nin_ ,” he teased. 

“But no wine,” he whined. 

“No wine,” Legolas agreed. “However, when we get back to the stronghold, you will be greeted with win, I am sure.” 

“I will hold you to that, Elfling.” 

“Come now,” Northriel said, jumping up _._ “No more of this depression that you two have brought upon us. It is first snow. We should not stay down now.” Tinnion pushed himself up and together, he and Legolas watched as their friend went around, handing out lemba bread to every soldier still awake before returning to their side. “Eat,” she ordered. 

“Yes, nana,” Legolas teased, but bit some off to pass over to Tinnion and took some for himself. 

“Nearly a millennium we’ve known each other,” Tinnion mused around his mouthful. “And we’ve yet to spend a Midwinter apart.” 

“You know that will not always be the case,” Legolas warned. 

“No conjecturing right now,” Northriel scolding. “Elbereth, Legolas. You are not usually this down-cast.” 

“ _Goheno nin_ ,” he murmured. “This has been a long journey. I am simply weary.” 

“It is still unlike you to be this dispirited,” Tinnion put in, looking worried as well. 

“Or to admit you are weary,” Northriel said suspiciously. “You are not hiding an injury, are you?” 

“Nay,” he answered quickly. “I am not.” 

“Then?”

“Same as everyone,” he finally admitted. “I was hoping for our task to be over so that we could join our kin in celebration.” For a brief minute, he felt anger well up inside him as his friends did not answer. “Look around us,  _mellyn nin._ The trees aren’t speaking, the woods are silent.  _Mirkwood_ they call it. Our world is falling to the darkness, and we are weeks from our family, alone.” His anger spent, he fell against the tree. They sat in silence for a few minutes. 

“We are,” Tinnion finally said, ignoring Northriel’s annoyed look in his direction. “What? We all know the chances of getting back are very low. However, it is worth it, is it not? Protecting the realm?” 

“Of course!” Legolas turned to his friend, astonished and hurt that Tinnion would think he disagreed.

“ _Sidh,_ Legolas. I did not mean to accuse you otherwise. “But what I meant is that there will be other Midwinter celebrations. For now, our duty lies here so that we could be sure of the future. Our wood is growing dark, but it is still our home. Midwinter is about light triumphing over dark, is it not? It’s for these times of happiness that we are fighting for, no? What’s a few missed feasts in return for a lifetime of light?

“But even for that,” Northriel added. “We shall not be disheartened, for although we do not have your father’s Dorwinion wine, we have each other.” She once again, got up, but this time pulled Legolas with her. “Come, Legolas. First snow and we cannot be sad.” She nodded to something behind him, and he heard a flute start in song. He turned around to see Devedir pulling out his own flute to join Cîlchon’s. 

Tinnion’s laugh tinkled as Northriel turned and twisted, bringing Legolas with her. The prince found a smile alighting his own face as others in his company awoke to the sound of the music and joined them merrily. They did not dare be too loud, for they were still in the dark-infested south. But for a short time, the elves of the Woodland Ranger Corps allowed themselves to revel in the beauty of the forest covered in snow, and enjoyed each others’ company. 

It wasn’t a feast, nor was it the brightened hall of the Elven-King’s stronghold, but it was Eryn Galen, Legolas thought. Eryn Galen, home of the merry wood-elves and their hope. Their home.

* * *

**Sindarin Translations:**

_Sidh -_ Peace

 _Goheno nin_  - Forgive me

 _Mellon nin/Mellyn nin_  - My friend(s)

 _Naneth -_ Mother

 _Adar -_ Father

 _Daro -_ Stop

 _Caun nin -_ My prince

**Author's Note:**

> The first full-length short story into Lord of the Rings. It was a bit of a stumble rather than smooth run. However, fandom Legolas is just too cute! Hope you enjoyed!  
> Cross posted on fanfiction.net (RoboTitaness)  
> Find me on Tumblr: Fr0st6yte.tumblr.com


End file.
